


Ramblings of a Crazy Old Hermit - Day 1,174 (Part III)

by crazyoldhermit



Series: Obi-Wan Kenobi: Ramblings of a Crazy Old Hermit [52]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Satire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8350501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyoldhermit/pseuds/crazyoldhermit
Summary: The weekly satirical saga continues, as Obi-Wan accepts help from Jabba the Hutt, but at what cost?!
www.ramblingsofacrazyoldhermit.com





	

TATOOINE - Day 1,174 (Part III):

Too much crazy shit was going on. I felt like I didn't have the time to process it all. I had to keep moving, keep trying to find some sane resolution to this madness. I needed to find Luke, talk to Boba Fett, and now apparently I also had to kill Darth Maul. So much for living the quiet life of a hermit. 

I stood over Mace Windu's decapitated corpse. What was left of him was more machine than man, twisted and starting to smell evil. He was finally dead, once more. This time I was fairly sure it would stick, especially since Vader took Mace's big bald head with him. Maybe it was to offer proof of death to Palpatine, or maybe it was to keep as a personal trophy. Either way, Mace was dead and Vader was gone. 

Climbing back into my landspeeder, I left Mace where he was. I decided what little meat was left on his mostly droid body would make a nice snack for the womp rats. It's all he deserved. 

I drove into Mos Eisley, hoping to see some signs of which way Maul had headed. But for all I knew he had already fled the planet, although I was fairly certain the Empire had a blockade set up in order to snare him. There were stormtroopers everywhere, flipping over vendor's carts and generally harassing the masses. I couldn't take the chance of drawing attention to myself so I made the first turn I could and drove casually out of the city to see Jabba the Hutt.

The ghastly albino, Bib Fortuna, stopped me at the gate. He spoke his usual incomprehensible gibberish, and I used my usual mind trick to gain access to Jabba's Palace. The occupants of the throne room might have actually out-fuglied the creatures at the Cantina in Mos Eisley, and that's really saying something. Tatooine was definitely not running low on ugly. 

Jabba was on his throne, stuffing his fat face with some kind of terrified frogs, the band was playing, and a blue Twi'lek, Chri-Bergaya, was dancing for Jabba's pleasure. When they noticed me, the room fell silent. 

"Hello Ben," Chri-Bergaya said with a wink. 

Jabba noticed his slave girl flirting with me and immediately pounded his fist down on a button that triggered a trap door. Chri-Bergaya fell into the Rancor's pit below. (Boba Fett and I, of course captured that Rancor for Jabba, what seemed like a lifetime ago.)

Chri-Bergaya screamed as the Rancor ripped her apart. Jabba on the other hand let out a hardy chuckle, "HA-HA-HA, POODOO CHUNGA!"

I already felt like slicing into that giant slug for killing an innocent Twi'lek, but for the moment I needed to stay on target. 

"CHATTA WONGA, BLAH-BLAH-BLAH, KENOBI?" Jabba belched out. 

Jabba's translator, who was a different droid from the last time, said, "The exalted Jabba the Hutt welcomes you back, and asks what business you have with him?"

"Tell his royal blubbership, that I am searching for a moisture farmer named Owen Lars."

The droid translated, and Jabba responded, "HA-HA-HA, CHONGA BATA BLAH-BLAH-BLAH."

"The mighty Jabba knows the whereabouts of this moisture farmer," the droid informed me. 

"And what would his slugness want in return for this information?" I was almost afraid to ask. 

"Jabba the Hutt asks for nothing in return," the droid translated. 

"I find that hard to believe," I said, more to myself. 

"HA! HA! HAAA!" Jabba shoved his droid while laughing uncontrollably. "MOTA WONGA BUTTA BLAH-BLAH-BLAH!"

The droid struggled to steady himself. "Jabba says that he appreciates your gift of the Rancor, and therefore requires no payment for information."

"I see," I wasn't believing this for a minute. "So where is Owen Lars?"

"He is on the opposite side of Tatooine," the droid continued, "hiding in the Caverns of Mor'du. But you must hurry because a terrible storm is headed that way."

"I thank you, your fatship." I bowed in respect and turned to leave. 

"MOONGA!"

"Jabba says wait," the droid stated. "The Empire has enforced a no-fly zone across Tatooine. To journey by speeder would take three days, and the storm will arrive in two."

"So how do I get there?" 

I swear the droid was sneering at me. "The quickest way is through…the…planet's…core!"

Not again.

"HA-HA-HA-HAAA!" Jabba was having way too much fun with me. 

"Um," I began, "yeah, I've done that before. Except Tatooine is solid rock, and I'm pretty sure that near the planet's core is made up of molten lava. It's just not scientifically possible."

The droid translated. "Jabba has no idea what this 'science' is that you speak off, but he says the journey is possible. And he is willing to assist you in getting there."

At this point I was having a hard time believing anything this obese bastard was saying. But if Owen and Luke were holed up in these mysterious caverns and a storm was coming, what choice did I really have?

"I will graciously accept the help of the mighty Jabba," I said, immediately regretting it. “And what does slug-brain want in exchange for this transportation?”

Translations were exchanged. “Jabba wants nothing.”

Now I knew I was in trouble.

Jabba decided to have his droid escort me to the transport. As we made our way down the darkened corridor I could hear Jabba’s maniacal laughter still coming from the throne room. “Jabba wishes you luck and a speedy return,” the droid attempted to cover for his master’s impoliteness. 

“I bet he does.”

Attempting to make small talk the droid added, “I am THX-1138, Hutt cyborg relations.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, glancing around looking for a trap.

“How rude!”

“Listen, TMZ whatever,” I began, “the next time I’m here your master would have already melted you down for scrap.”

“It’s THX-1138, and aren’t you just a ray of sunshine.”

The obnoxious droid led me outside through some rock formations. As we rounded a corner, the space opened up to a large courtyard and I was utterly shocked by what I saw.

“And this, Mr. Kenobi,” the droid began, “is your transport. The mighty Exogorth, or what is more commonly known as a ‘space slug.’”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

The creature was enormous! It was so large that I felt it could accidentally inhale me and never be the wiser.

“Funny,” I said for my own benefit, “I thought Jabba was the only slug on Tatooine.”

“You are a horrible human being,” my android counterpart informed me.

In front of the ginormous space slug sat a pill shaped transport vessel, and beside the transport, stood Boba Fett.


End file.
